Yet another beautiful night, the place where she really belongs to. The night belongs to the ghastly creatures called men. In a way, she belongs to them. She had been sleepless all her nights. Now she is lying next to someone stranger, but familiar.
Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She was tired from the day, cleaning up the house, those-to-be-done-but-still-undone chores. She got up from her bed to check; whether the doors locked, dog and birds fed, lights out. She stopped before her mirror, tidied up her hair, cleansed her mouth, applied little of her perfumed-moisturising lotion, her ways of warming up before getting into bed with someone. She spent few minutes looking at the birds in the cage, which reminded her of her own life: An Illuminated Illusion.
She climbed back to her bed. Somehow she found it strange to be with him, The one who came often to her house to just crash into sleep. She got reminded of those other men she met in her nights. Those fiery animals, who were lustfully less concerned that she was a human. Those men to whom the very act was a mere ritual. They came, They performed, They went. Those shy individuals, who always wanted lights out/doors closed because they were orthodox. Those who get turned off at any sort of signs of love in her maneuvers. She smiled her usual mocking smile at the ‘down to earth’ men-folk. She sat in her bed, staring at nothing, with tears streaming down her cheeks. She sobbed silently in the night, with the moon outside, the sole witness to a soul’s unsung sorrow.
The friendly someone pulled her close to his side. It was a touch, an act of assurance, not out of affront or wantful lust. She looked at him sleeping beside her. She listened to the breathing, that was not disgusting, but amusing. She was more amazed at how, she could cherish the sight which was like that of her sleeping pet.
She kissed him on his eyelids and snuggled closer to him. She felt the warmth of masculinity in his abated breath. The room was silent except for the uneven breathing of two tired souls. Sometimes She does belong to him. Him alone.